My husband thinks I'm a coffee addict.
The power went out Saturday morning just as I was heading downstairs to brew up a delicious, eye-opening (huge) mug of coffee. Since I'm currently limited to only one cup, I make sure it's an extra large, highly-caffeinated one.
Power outages are fairly frequent and sometimes long lasting here in Marietta, especially on Saturdays, so this was no trivial matter. It wouldn't be an issue if we had a generator, something that has been mentioned previously and thoroughly discussed a great number of times, but we don't. I guess he forgets I drink coffee for his protection.
I had no way to make the mug of deliciousness that had totally occupied my thoughts all during my shower, anticipating that first sip and almost tasting the exquisite wonderfulness of it.
Clearly this was a crisis of epic proportion calling for immediate action.
There was only one thing I could do.
Off to Starbucks for a Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte! Heaven in a paper cup only 1.2 miles away!
Of course, my husband came along for a Salted Caramel Mocha Latte, and it was only after he finished his latte that he accused me of being a coffee addict.
REALLY!!!???
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